


rewindin' time, goin' back

by lochTenderness (theseourbodies)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Age Swap, First year! Kasamatsu, Kaijou High (Freeform), M/M, Minor Kuroko Tetsuya & Kagami Taiga & Kise Ryouta, Seirin High (Freeform), Third year! Kise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 14:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseourbodies/pseuds/lochTenderness
Summary: age swap auKasamatsu might not like everything about his senior, but Kise's basketball is worth his respect even if the man himself drives Kasamatsu up a wall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few chapters of this planned out, but here's the meat of what I have so far. Enjoy!

The first time Kasamatsu calls his new captain 'sempai', Kise Ryouta goes bright red and stares at him like Kasamatsu's just started speaking in rhyme. 

It's just a little thing, a begrudging but respectful 'thanks' for helping Kasamatsu really stick his footing for a specific passing play-- respectful because Kasamatsu likes and appreciates traditional team structure; begrudging because of all the seniors to have in this godforsaken world, he could think of few he actually respected less than ridiculous, flamboyant Kise. But, after he says it-- "Thank you, sempai"-- Kise won't stop staring at him, blushing and fidgeting with his hands like a girl with a crush. 

One of his other seniors finally realizes that his captain is apparently having some kind of seizure and laughs. 

"Oh, don't worry about calling any of us sempai or senior or anything, Kasamatsu-- we're not really that kind of team." 

Kise, for his part, chokes out a laugh, too. He finally looks away, glancing off the side. "Yeah, we're not big on the hierarchy, you know? But, um--" 

Kasamatsu watches his 18-year-old captain and Kaijou's starting ace poke his fingers together shyly with growing, supreme disbelief. 

"You can keep calling me that, if you like," Kise continues, still bright red in the face. "Yeah, you know, I don't thing I'd mind that at all, Kasamatsu! Call me sempai from now on, ok~?" 

Kasamatsu stares as Kise, who has been restored to his typical heights of ridiculousness, swan away from him again. What, he thinks furiously, the ever-loving hell was that. 

* * *

 It doesn't get better after that. 

As requested, and more out of a stubborn sense of propriety than anything else, Kasamatsu keeps calling Kise sempai, or, occasionally, Captain; Kise, in turn, continues to act like Kasamatsu's one of the more ridiculous girls that haunt Kise's every move, calling him Ki-tan or Ryo-kun or something equally stupid. It would be vaguely insulting if Kise also didn't look so genuinely surprised every time it happened, or vaguely hopeful every time Kasamatsu had any reason to talk to him for any length of time. 

The attention made Kasamatsu a little nervous at first—he might not respect Kise as a person over much, but Kise’s basketball was a completely different story. Silly as he was, ridiculous and wild as his moods could be, Kise Ryouta was a monster on the court. Fast, focused, a brutal combination of highly cultivated talent and seemingly bottomless skill, Kaijou's ace was the man to beat in Japan. The fact that he was also one of the most petulant, flighty people Kasamatsu had ever met had been surprising at first, but after a few months of knowing the other boy, Kasamatsu finds it weirdly fitting. Kasamatsu didn't want to think about Kise's brand of intensity and focus applied to every day life. 

Impossible as it seems, he thinks that Kise would be even more unbearable, then. 

So, what starts as something like stubborn protest of Kise and the shambles that Kise has made of Kasamatsu's sense of duty and hierarchy becomes an effort of genuine respect-- he doesn't care if Kaijou isn't that kind of team, because Kasamatsu is that kind of person. He doesn't understand how a person can watch Kise play and not want to show him respect; in fact, the more he plays with them, the more he doesn't really understand Kaijou's attitude towards Kise at all. 

As the team starts to gear up for tournament season, Kassamatsu gets less confused and more angry with every practice session and practice game they play. There are only a handful of third years on the team; only two of them are starters, including Kise, and only two more are on the bench as back-ups. All of them have a universal attitude around Kise, like he's not a captain and an ace, like he's barely even a friend. It's... strange. It also makes something curl up, snarling and hissing and protective, around the idea of Kise in Kasamatsu's head. The more time he spends with Kaijou's ball club, the easier and easier it becomes to call out to Kise, call him sempai or captain with genuine respect and tell him thank you without hesitation. 

His other seniors' attitudes has sparked a different kind of protest in Kasamatsu, one that he carries with him even when Kise is at his most ridiculous.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annual Seirin vs. Kaijou practice match ft. third years Kuroko and Kagami.

The first game of the new school year is one of what will be dozens of practice games, but a blind man could see that Kise's almost more excited about this one practice match than he is about the upcoming tournament. 

"It's tradition!" Kise chirps at the collection of first years. "Just a friendly little game against some old friends, you know how it is." 

It's probably not exactly a lie to Kise, just an ommission. Unfortunately for his captain's sense of pride, Kasamatsu has already heard from the other third year seniors about the first practice game Kaijou had played against Seirin High-- how it had been an all-out brawl by the end, how Kise had cried outright when the final score had been called. 

Kasamatsu can't figure out what he likes less-- the casual way the other seniors had talked about their teammate's moment of failure and embarrassment, or the cause of the issue in the first place, the freak power duo that was Seirin's main claim to fame. 

"So relax, relax. I just want you to play your best," Kise continues, looking towards the first-year starters-- Kasamatsu and tall, quiet Kobori-- with a huge, obnoxious wink. Unfortunately for their captain, Kasamatsu doesn’t think he’s fooling anyone. Despite the relaxed set of his shoulders and his easy smile, Kise's so obviously nervous it's almost pathetic. For what seems like the fifth time in the last minute and a half he fiddles with his bangs and twitches his jersey a fraction of a centimeter straighter. His shoes are the new ones that he's only just started breaking in, so they're still bright white and shiny blue. Kasamatsu scowls down at them resentfully. It's hard to tell what Kise's more nervous about-- the game itself, or whoever it is he's all dressed up for, relatively speaking. 

Like a girl with a crush, Kasamatsu thinks again, feeling weirdly cranky about the whole ridiculous scene. This is no way for an ace to act; it's no wonder Kise's managed to trick people into thinking he's not worth the price of the clothes on his back when he's off the court. 

He pulls at the hem of his own starter's jersey and decides-- he won't give anyone anymore ammo against his foolish, brilliant captain. He tugs his compression socks up a little higher and takes the moment to make a promise-- he'll win this game if it kills him, practice match or no. 

Despite his best intentions about being welcoming and friendly, Kasamatsu still feels irrationally irritated when Seirin files into the gym, calling greetings to familiar faces and making their way to the locker room. As is apparently tradition also, they're playing a full court game, with the regulation nets. Kise's shouted greeting is louder than any others, and to Kasamatsu's ever increasing annoyance he bounces up to a much smaller man with all the focus and intensity of a very excited Pomeranian puppy. 

"Kurokocchi~! Welcome back, I missed you!" 

"Kise-kun," says the boy, speech formal and featureless. Boring, despite the mythic quality he has when people talk about him, sometimes. 

So, this is Kuroko Tetsuya, the phantom man of Seirin, one-half of the ace team that had made an absolute mockery of everyone's predictions for their debut Winter Cup Final bracket. 

He's not much, Kasamatsu thinks idly, kind of small. He hadn't even noticed Kuroko until Kise had picked him out of the small crowd of Seirin's ball club, and that, at least, is as thoroughly creepy as the rumors about the man had claimed.  

(Maybe he's being a little mean, Kasamatsu admits to himself irritably. He's had a month and a half of being the only person that can inspire that particular expression of wonder on his captain's face. That this plain, small, still-faced boy can manage to do the same simply by entering a room that Kise is also occupying is... oddly sobering.) 

And where there's Kuroko-- 

"And Kagamicchi. I've been looking forward to this rematch, I hope you brought some new moves this time~." 

Ah. If Kuroko was underwhelming at best, Kagami comes in like a literal tiger, sharp-eyed and grinning with all his white teeth. The air around him bleeds arrogance, like he's trying to fill all of the void that Kuroko leaves behind. 

The more that he sees of Seirin and their starting line, the less Kasamatsu likes them. It’s a completely rational reaction, obviously. 

"Shut up, Kise, you're giving your underclassmen the wrong idea about how our last battle went." 

 "Mean!" Kise says, grinning more to show his own teeth than to share amusement. "And for your information, the past doesn't matter now. I can't let my adorable new kouhai down, so this match is already decided." 

Kagami looks insultingly surprised, and Kasamatsu grits his teeth. Swallowing hot anger like bile, he stalks over to the little trio. The team needs to start warm ups, and most of the Seirin club have already disappeared into the away-team locker room. Time to break up this little reunion. 

Bad enough that Kise gets so little respect from his own team, even if it is by his own design. It’s worse, much worse, to have an opponent look down on Kise, too. 

He looks in Kuroko’s direction as he walks (storms) over to them; it’s just sheer luck that he sees Kuroko’s expression shift at all, but the way he's looking up at Kise almost stops Kasamatsu in his tracks. Almost expressionless isn't the same as expressionless, he realizes as he watches the small curl of Kuroko's mouth, the arc of his eyebrows. It is a very, very quiet happiness, but it is genuine. It is genuine, and it is just for Kise, and ok; maybe Kasamatsu gets some of Kise's deal about this former teammate better now than he did before. 

"That's wonderful, I am very happy that Kise-kun has juniors he is fond of." 

Even more devastating than anything Kasamatsu has seen or overheard so far is Kise Ryouta laughing quietly as he rubs at the back of his shining head, made bashful and honest in the wake of such a simple statement. 

We'll win, Kasamatsu thinks again, suddenly. I promise you sempai, we'll win this practice match if it kills me. 

Kasamatsu trots up as Kuroko finishes speaking, much calmer than he had been when he had started heading over. Kise, predictably, sheds the intimate mood between him and the others with a childish shout. He wraps one long arm around Kasamatsu's shoulders and drags him close. 

"Perfect timing! Kurokocchi~ let me introduce you to my favorite junior of all!" 

 

* * *

 

They beat Seirin in the practice match without the necessity of Kasamatsu's untimely death. Kise bounces to the center line of the court for the handshake like he hasn't just spent the last 40 minutes pounding from net to net at a pace Kasamatsu had previously thought was completely unsustainable. They win by two whole points and the win tastes so sweet it's like a physical weight on Kasamatsu’s tongue. 

Seirin is good-natured about the loss. To the shock of the entire gymnasium full of people, Kagami sweeps Kise into a bear hug instead of shaking his hand when they line up-- Kasamatsu can just barely see his mouth moving, but he's too far away to tell what he says. Kise ducks his head when Kagami lets him go, but he nods once, firmly; if his eyes are shiny when he looks up with a grin, Kasamatsu decides it's no one's business but Kise's own. 

Kuroko avoids the hug Kise tries to trap him in; Kasamatsu watches from the corner of his eye as he makes his own rounds, and sees Kuroko gently grip one of Kise's hands in both of his. If he also says something, Kasamatsu is still too far out of range to hear him. 

Kise floats off the court, afterwards. He moves, light as air, into the locker rooms, and out the door again, but not before pausing in the locker room to look Kasamatsu dead in the eye. 

"Thank you for today, Kasamatsu." 

The lack of verbal flair surprises Kasamatsu, makes something like nerves tickle up his spine. "Sempai?" he asks, head cocking. They're two of the last people left; Kasamatsu's so tired it's been a trial making his legs get moving again once he took a seat on a bench. 

The blushing has almost completely stopped by now, but the tops of Kise's cheeks still go a soft red as Kasamatsu watches. The sun is just starting to go down, and the warmth of the pre-sunset light coming through the windows of their change room loves Kise like no other light that Kasamatsu has ever seen. 

"Just... thanks. I'm really happy you decided to come to Kaijou. I wasn't sure-- I didn't know if you would--" 

Fit in, Kasamatsu assumes without anger. 

"But now I can happily say that I was wrong. This’ll be our year, I know it." 

It's Kasamatsu's turn to stare at Kise, one of the greatest power forwards Japan will probably ever produce, as he stands shyly in a doorway and blushes for a boy two years younger than him and nowhere near his level of play. 

I'm the one who's happy, Kasamatsu thinks. This was the right decision. You were the right decision.  

Belatedly he nods, agreement and thanks rolled up into one gesture because he can't seem to make his mouth move to say any words. He's worried that it won't be enough, that Kise might take his silence for indifference-- and Kise, Kasamatsu knows even after so little time together, deserves everything but the indifference of others. 

But he should know better than to doubt his captain by now. Kise gives him a small smile return and disappears through the doorway and into the shadowy hallway beyond. 

Kasamatsu drags himself home, and the sun sets finally on his first triumphant match with his new team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this features the gayest paragraph my gay ass has ever written: 
> 
> "The blushing has almost completely stopped by now, but the tops of Kise's cheeks still go a soft red as Kasamatsu watches. The sun is just starting to go down, and the warmth of the pre-sunset light coming through the windows of their change room loves Kise like no other light that Kasamatsu has ever seen."

**Author's Note:**

> I got caught up one evening thinking about what Kasamatsu was like as a first year and things kind of.... snowballed....


End file.
